Steady Shake
by SafraBerries
Summary: The seven times Virgil Tracy has had a seizure and the seven times Scott Tracy has to deal with it. (Basically, Virgil has epilepsy and this is how they are from Scott's point of view. I don't know how else to say it. I'm also no expert on epilepsy, but it takes place in 2060, so I'm just kind of making it up as I go and blaming it on future medication.)
1. Chapter 1

**I wasn't sure if I was going to post this, but I decided to give it a try. As you can see, I like picking on Virgil and I can't explain why, but this is how it turned out. I'm also basing this purely off of the 2015 reboot so I took some creative liberties with the timeline. Just for a little clarification, Lucy Tracy doesn't die until Scott's about twenty years old and Jeff starts International Rescue after her death because it could have been prevented if emergency services had gotten to her sooner. He goes missing about three years or so after IR is founded.**

His brother had had six seizures in his life and Scott could remember all of them. They haunted his dreams when he'd had a long day. They were always in the back of his mind when he saw his brother. He knew his brother could remember a couple of them, but Scott remembered each one with vivid detail.

The first had been when Virgil was eleven. Though they hadn't realized exactly what was happening at the time, it had still scared Scott half to death. It had been him, Virgil, John, and their dad outside working on their dad's pet project: restoring his grandfather's old convertible from the early 2000s. And by that, he meant his dad was working on the car, Scott handed him tools every once in a while, and Virgil and John were tossing a baseball back and forth over the car.

Scott had been watching intently as his father explained what he was doing when he heard the ball hit the ground instead of his brother's palm, followed by ten-year-old John's exasperated sigh, "Come on, Virg, it was right by your hand! Virg?"

Scott looked up to see his brother standing still, staring blankly at nothing. He walked to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, "Virgil? What's wrong?"

Virgil's hands were shaking slightly and he didn't respond at all to Scott's touch or his voice. Scott was kind of starting to freak out. So, he did what any thirteen-year-old would do, "Dad!"

His father looked around the hood of the car and wiped his dirty hands with an even dirtier rag, "Virgil? What's the matter, son?"

And then his brother was falling. Scott scrambled to hold Virgil up, but only managed to make his fall to the pavement a little less hard. He went right down with him, kneeling by his side and shaking his shoulder, "Virgil!"

His dad had pushed him roughly to the side. He had apologized later, but Scott had honestly been glad that his father had taken over, "John, get your mother!"

John bolted into the house as his father had one hand cupping his little brother's cheek and another shaking his arm, gently, "Virgil? Son, can you hear me?"

His brother's eyebrows knitted together slightly as he groaned a little, blinking his eyes open wearily, "Dad?"

Scott watched at his mother came running out, followed by John, and his dad sighed in relief, "Are you okay, Virgil?"

"What happened?" His mother asked, crouching behind his father.

"I think he fainted," His father glanced over his shoulder. "Virgil, can you sit up for me?"

His parents fussed over Virgil for a few more minutes before his mother helped him to his feet and led him inside. His father had reassured Scott that Virgil was probably just tired from staying up late finishing a project the night before and basketball practice earlier in the afternoon. He had gone back to "helping" his dad with the car and come in to see his brother taking a nap on the couch. He'd felt better after he woke up and agreed that he was probably just tired. They'd eaten dinner together as normal and his mom sent Virgil up to bed a few hours early. They would take him to the doctor if it happened again. Scott thought that had been the end of it. How wrong he had been.

**Yeah, I know it's short, but they get longer, trust me.**


	2. Chapter 2

The second was a few days later and while Scott hadn't been there when it happened, he had felt just as much panic as the brother who was. It was a Saturday afternoon. He and his father were in the car after dropping off Alan at a friend's house for a play date, and his mother and John had been getting groceries. Scott had been telling his father about what he was learning in math class when a call came in from Virgil's phone. His father had pressed the button to answer and said, so nonchalantly, "What's going on, Virg? Gordon giving you a hard time?"

But it wasn't Virgil who answered. It was his eight-year-old brother, Gordon, sounding panicked, strange noises in the background, "Dad! Dad, there's something wrong with Virgil."

His father had immediately wiped the playful grin off his face and gone into "Dad Mode", as John called it, "What's happening, Gordon?"

"I don't know! We were watching a show and he said he didn't feel good. He went to see if we had any Advil and he just fell down and started shaking!"

His father had sped up significantly, "We'll be there in a few minutes. Scott, call 9-1-1 and tell them your brother is having a seizure."

Scott had felt like his heart was in his throat as he scrambled with his phone and his father gave Gordon instructions on what to do. His brain had been immediately flooded with the videos he'd seen of seizures and imagining his little brother as that person made him feel sick.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Spoke a woman, sounding a little too chipper for someone working in emergency services, but Scott figured she was trying to be encouraging or something.

"My-uh-my brother is having a seizure," Scott managed to stutter out.

The woman's voice immediately became more serious, but still calm, "Okay, is there an adult with you?"

"Yes! I mean, no. Well, sort of," His brain had chosen that moment to stop working entirely. "He's home alone with my other brother. I'm in the car with my dad and my brother is on the other phone."

"Okay, can you put me on speaker so I can talk to your dad?" She asked and Scott did so. "Hello? Am I speaking with an adult?"

"Hold on a second Gordon," His dad said as he turned left. Scott was pretty sure that was illegal since the light had been red and several cars honked at them, but that wasn't important at the time. They were almost home. "Yes, my eleven-year-old son is home alone with my eight-year-old and I think he's having a seizure. I'm about three minutes away."

"Has this ever happened before?" The woman asked.

"No, I don't know where this came from," his dad said shakily. "He was fine ten minutes ago."

"Okay, I'm going to send an ambulance to your house," The woman said. "What is your address?"

His father gave the woman their address and Scott couldn't help but panic internally. He had seen a movie where a character had a seizure. He didn't remember the details, but he knew they ended up having a massive brain tumor and died a few days later. He also knew it could be a symptom of several other serious medical conditions. What was wrong with his brother?

"He stopped shaking!" Scott had almost forgotten Gordon was on the phone. "Virgil? Virgil, are you okay?"

"How long did the seizure last?" The woman on the phone asked.

"Gordon, about how long was Virgil shaking?" His dad asked in that fake-calm voice Scott recognized from the time John had fallen off the roof and he had to calm Alan down. Except John just broke his arm and was fine after a few days.

"Uh, two minutes, maybe?"

Had it only been two minutes? It had felt like two years and two seconds all at once. Certainly not two minutes, though, that didn't sound right.

"There's an ambulance that can be there in about three to four minutes. If he regains consciousness, keep him still and calm as possible."

Scott could see their house now. He thought he could vaguely hear sirens in the distance, but he couldn't be sure. His dad hadn't bothered to park in the garage. He just stopped the car in the driveway, jumped out, and ran inside faster than Scott had ever seen. As he ran into the living room, he saw his father kneeling by his little brother who was lying still on the floor. His eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.

He heard faint sniffling from the couch and looked to see Gordon hugging his knees to his chest, crying silently. Scott couldn't do anything for Virgil, but he could help Gordon. He sat on the couch and pulled Gordon into his chest. His brother started sobbing and Scott just hugged him tighter. The next bit had become a bit of a blur over the years. He remembered Virgil woke up, but his words slurred together and what Scott could make out didn't make much sense. His dad just kept him on the floor, speaking to him calmly as Scott held onto Gordon like a lifeline.

The sirens got louder and the paramedics came in with a stretcher, one of them stooped down and starting checking Virgil's vitals, one talked to his father, and another kneeled next to the couch where Scott and Gordon were huddled. It was a man with kind-looking eyes and a warm, tired smile.

"Hi, my names Ben. Now, which one of you boys was with your brother?" he asked, but directing it more towards Scott since Gordon was still sniffling a little.

"Gordon was," Scott answered for both of them.

Ben's gaze shifted to his little brother, "Hi Gordon, you did really good today, helping your brother."

Gordon sniffled, "But I couldn't do anything."

"Yes, you did. You called for help, which was the exact right thing to do. And you did everything your dad told you. You were very brave."

Scott squeezed his brother's shoulders and whispered reassuringly, "You did really good, Gordo."

Gordon gave a weak smile and glanced over where a blonde woman was shining a light in Virgil's eyes, "Is Virgil okay?"

"It's our job to make sure he gets better," Ben smiled softly. "Now, I'm just going to give you a little check-up to make sure you're doing okay."

Scott watched as Ben checked Gordon's pulse, breathing, blood pressure, and had him walk in a straight line. He realized years later he was checking to make sure Gordon wasn't in shock, but at the time, he was just glad his little brother was distracted from what was going on with their brother.

The blonde lady had finished checking Virgil's vitals and she and another man were helping him sit up. They then half guided, half carried him to the stretcher and began strapping him in. The woman was talking Virgil through everything that was going on and Scott caught a few snippets of what she was saying. Something about the straps being so he didn't fall off if he started shaking again, and they were taking him to the hospital to find out what was making him shake in the first place.

Scott knew that if Virgil had been fully alert, he probably would have deadpan told the woman he knew what a seizure was and not to sugar coat it. That or he'd be spouting off everything he knew about seizures and any condition that caused them. Even at eleven, his brother knew more about medicine and health care than the average adult and wasn't ashamed to let them know it. He had smiled in spite of himself thinking about Virgil's last check-up with the new nurse and how he had corrected her when she said some incorrect fact about something.

But his brother was just staring at her and nodding every once in a while. That was what had scared him, even more than the seizure itself. It was the fact that Virgil was acting so unlike himself. Scott knew what kind of damage seizures could do. Granted, it was usually only those who suffered from several a day that became mentally handicapped. But if just one was making his brother so un-Virgil like, what would he become if they kept happening? It was the 2040s, but there still wasn't a cure for epilepsy, diabetes, or many other diseases that caused seizures. Scott shuddered as he thought about how badly the next few days could go.

His dad hung up the phone with his mom and strode over to Scott, "Okay, I'm really sorry, but I need you to stay here, Scott."

"What? But Dad-" Scott started to protest, but his dad cut him off.

"No, Scott. Your mother and I need to be with Virgil, but we can't bring all of you and I need someone to watch the little ones. Your mom is going to drop off John and Alan and then meet me at the hospital. I need you here."

Scott wanted to argue, but the look in his dad's eyes made him hesitate. He looked _scared._ His dad was never scared. At least, he never let anyone see it when he was. But there was fear in his dad's eyes. He knew his parents wouldn't be able to properly handle whatever was wrong with Virgil if they had to wrangle their other four sons at the same time. So, he just nodded and his dad gave him a weak smile, "Thank you, Scott. I'll call Grandma and see if she can come over. If not, order a pizza for dinner and I'll pay you back later."

His dad left with the paramedics and Virgil which left Gordon and Scott alone in the suddenly huge house. Gordon didn't want to watch television anymore, so Scott got out Monopoly, Gordon's favorite, and tried to pretend it was any other Saturday. His mom showed up about ten minutes later, gave Alan and Gordon a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged Scott and John before heading out.

Alan and John joined their game of Monopoly. John looked like he wanted to throw up, but Alan was just upset he had to leave his play date early. John told him later that his mom had only told Alan that Virgil was sick and she had to go with him to the doctor, which was why he was so unaffected.

Their grandma did show up a few hours later with the groceries Mom and John were supposed to get. She made spaghetti, Gordon's favorite, and let them have ice cream sundaes for dessert. She went to tuck Alan and Gordon in leaving Scott and John to talk about what had happened. His brother may have been ten, but he was just as, if not more, mature than Scott, which was actually nice because he had someone to dump all his thoughts onto. It made them feel less jumbled up in his brain.

They went up to bed after it became clear their parents and Virgil weren't coming home that night. Scott woke to a scream from Gordon's room and burst in to see his brother sobbing after having a nightmare. He hadn't been able to tell Scott what it was about, but he had a pretty good guess. No matter how freaked out Scott had been, Gordon had actually seen Virgil's seizure.

His eight-year-old brother had watched his big brother, the one who was always strong and there for him, having a _seizure_. And he had been alone. Scott felt stupid for not realizing how hard that must have been on him. Once Gordon had calmed down a little, Scott got him a glass of water and let him sleep in Scott's bed. They both slept until six in the morning when the front door opened.

Scott had gotten up as quickly and quietly as he could and rushed into the hallway to find only his parents, looking tired and as if they had been crying. His brain had immediately jumped to the wort-case-scenario and his stomach decided it didn't actually like the spaghetti from the night before, "Where's Virgil?"

"He's at the hospital getting some rest until we get the rest of his test results back.," His mother answered and his heart calmed down a little bit. "We were hoping not to wake any of you."

"Why?"

His dad led him into the living room and sat him between his parents, "They've ruled out a few different possibilities, it's not a brain tumor, diabetes, or any of the more common causes. So now they're just checking to see if it's caused by any certain thing."

"What do you mean, if?" Scott was confused. People don't just have seizures for no reason, right?

"You see," his mother started. "Sometimes there's no apparent reason for a seizure to occur. Once someone has two seizures and they can't find anything that causes them, that's when they diagnose it as epilepsy."

"But Virgil's only had one seizure."

His dad shook his head, "No, Scott. He's had two. Remember a few days ago when we thought he just fainted from being too tired? That was a seizure. A less severe one, yes, but it was still a seizure."

Scott felt like his heart was in his throat. His brother had already had a seizure before and they didn't even realize? No, that couldn't' be right. He would know if his baby brother was having a seizure. He wasn't that bad a brother, was he? "What if it is epilepsy? How do you treat something if there's no reason for it?"

"They have medicine for it," his dad assured. "And there's a diet that helps or surgery in some cases. But until they know exactly what it is, we didn't want to tell you anything. We were just going to grab some clothes and a couple of Virgil's books before going back to the hospital."

"I can't come, can I?" Scott guessed.

"We were going to let you all come with Grandma after breakfast," His mom gave him a little smile. "How's everyone holding up?"

Scott shrugged, "John's not saying much, Gordon had a nightmare, and Alan doesn't really understand what's going on."

His dad sighed, but nodded, "That's about as good as I expected."

His parents had gathered a few of their things and headed out before any of his brothers woke up. They had gone to visit Virgil at around ten in the morning. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, working on his sketch of Gordon's fish Scott knew he'd been working on for a while. He looked a lot better, which made Scott feel better.

Alan, who still seemed to think Virgil just had the flu, or something started happily talking about his playdate and Monopoly and how Grandma let them have ice cream the night before and maybe Virgil could have some when he came home. Gordon was standing stiffly in the corner until Virgil noticed him and scooted over in the bed so Gordon could sit next to him. Once he sat down, Virgil pulled Gordon into a hug and whispered a "thank you" in his ear, making Gordon smile for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours.

John and Scott sat beside each other on the lumpy couch beneath the window, listening to Alan's ramblings about nothing and everything. Their parents came in after an hour or so with the doctor. He was a nice-looking man with a mischevious spark in his eyes. He looked a little young in Scott's opinion, but his parents trusted him, so Scott did too.

"Hello again, Virgil," the man gave Virgil a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked to the rest of them, "I'm Dr. Peters, I've heard a lot about all of you."

Alan happily returned the doctor's greeting, still blissfully ignorant about how serious this actually was. Scott managed a "Hi" while John just nodded and Gordon stared.

"Now, I've already told your parent's everything," The man sat on the only empty chair and addressed Virgil more than any of them. "Unfortunately, it does appear that you have a form of epilepsy."

Scott didn't hear much of what the doctor said after that. He knew he explained that the kind of epilepsy Virgil had wasn't too serious and could probably be controlled with medication and a small change in diet. He shouldn't need surgery, but it could become an option if the medicine didn't work.

He only knew that because John told him when they were alone later and he confessed he hadn't retained much after the initial statement. His little brother had a chronic medical condition. One that was fatal for a lot of people and terribly debilitating for others. What if the medicine didn't work? What if they had to do surgery? What if something went wrong with that? What if. . . Scott could hardly allow himself to think about it.

Virgil came home the next morning with new medicine and instructions to take it easy until they knew the medicine was doing its job. And by some miracle, lucky break, or the grace of some supreme being, it did. Scott was so grateful for the major advances in medicine over the past few decades that let his brother live a mostly normal life. Virgil didn't have any problems for nearly a year and a half.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the middle of flu season. Everyone in the household had gotten it except for their mother and Virgil. It had seemed like the two were in the clear until Virgil came home from school with a raging fever and a killer headache. A trip to the walk-in clinic and their fears were confirmed. It was the same thing everyone else in the house had gotten over the past month. Except it was worse on Virgil than anyone else. That wasn't anything too out of the ordinary, though. Virgil always got sicker than the rest of them, for whatever reason. His chickenpox had been itchier, his strep throat always lasted longer, and the stomach bug made it near impossible for him to keep anything down except light chicken broth and Jell-O.

So, when his fever got up to 104, no number of blankets could keep him warm, and he was so tired that trips to the bathroom knocked him out for four hours at a time, they weren't worried. They felt bad, of course, because he was so miserable, but they knew from past experience that the phrase "When it rains, it pours" was basically invented to describe Virgil Tracy and getting sick.

It was always nice when Virgil shuffled his way into the living room, about four blankets wrapped around him and he settled onto the couch, watching his brothers play video games. He had long since been deemed no longer contagious, but he was still miserable and wanted to sleep most of the day. A change of scenery was nice though.

That particular time, it had been John and Alan playing some game Scott could never remember the name of. Alan was a bit older at that point and understood that Virgil was sick with something which was why he had to take medicine every day. But it was that day that he truly realized that it wasn't the normal kind of sick.

Virgil had gotten up, mumbling something about going to the bathroom, according to John's later telling of the story. He made it about two steps before he fell. John had jumped up and gone to Virgil's side. At first, he was really stiff, then he started shaking. He had yelled for their parents and their mom came out of the kitchen where she had been getting ready to start on dinner. She'd instructed John to move the coffee table, the couch, and the lamp out of the way so Virgil wouldn't hurt himself.

Scott had come in right as Virgil bit through his tongue and blood started dripping from his mouth. He was frozen in the doorway, unable to move. He just stared at his mother talking calmly to his little brother who was shaking and bleeding and _Scott couldn't move. _He understood why Gordon had had nightmares for a week after Virgil's first seizure. The research he'd done and videos he'd watched had hardly prepared him for seeing the true nature of his brother's illness for the first time.

Thank goodness for John. His brother managed to get all the furniture out of Virgil's reach, get a crying Alan into Gordon's room, grab the first aid kit for Virgil's tongue, and time the seizure, like they'd all been taught.

Three minutes and seven seconds.

His dad had been outside shoveling the driveway. His mom sent him to tell him what happened. Scott finally got his feet to work and dashed outside. He followed his father in and watched, once again, from the doorway as his mom pressed a piece of gauze on his brother's tongue where he had bitten through. His dad had scooped Virgil up in his arms and carried him out to the car as his mother hurried to collect her purse and Virgil's prescription, yelling over her shoulder at Scott to watch his brothers. Apparently, Virgil didn't wake up for three hours.

They kept him at the hospital for a week until he got over the flu. They told Scott and his brothers that it was because of the flu and they just wanted to help him get over it quicker. But Scott (and probably John) knew it was because the flu was what caused the seizure and they wanted to have him at the hospital in case it triggered another one.

Scott would never forgive himself for just standing there while it happened. Sure, Virgil made a full recovery once the flu was gone. Sure, there wasn't much he could have done besides exactly what John had been doing. But he had just stood there. Never mind the shock of seeing one of Virgil's seizures, one of his bad ones, anyway. Gordon hadn't frozen when he was eight and he had been alone. Scott was supposed to be the one to look out for his brothers. And he couldn't even move a lamp out of the way when his little brother was having a _seizure_.

**Another short one! I feel bad for poor Virgil, but this is from Scott's point of view so at least we don't have to read what's going through Virgil's mind? Maybe? Hey, if it wasn't Virgil, I would have done it to John and that's a whole other can of worms.**


	4. Chapter 4

Unfortunately, the next one had happened at school. Virgil was sixteen at that point while Scott was eighteen. It was a few months into the start of the school year. He would never forget sitting in Chemistry, mostly bored out of his mind learning stuff he'd know since he was twelve, when the phone rang and his teacher told him to go to the gymnasium immediately. He had given her a strange look and she whispered in his ear that his brother was having a seizure.

He was sure several teachers had yelled at him as he ran through the halls, but he didn't hear them through the alarms going off in his mind. He cursed whoever had decided the science classrooms should be in a different building than the gym. After what felt like an eternity, he burst through the gym doors and had to stop a second to take in the scene. There was a group of curious sophomores trying to get a glimpse of what was happening as a teacher corralled them onto the bleachers. A small circle of people was in the middle of the basketball court, and he could see his brother's legs jerking violently.

He had hurried to the group and kneeled beside his brother, resisting the urge to pull Virgil into his arms and hold him tight, knowing that would only make things worse. An old-looking hoodie had been put under his head to keep him from slamming it repeatedly into the hardwood floor, and his brow was wet with sweat. He looked to the P.E. teacher, a twenty-something-year-old woman he knew was nice but a little clueless at times, "What happened?"

"We were playing flag football," She started, a little shakily. The school nurse was on the phone with someone and his football coach, Coach Marshall, was standing nearby. "He got hit in the head with the ball, but he seemed fine. I had him sit out for a few minutes, but he wanted to play some more. Five minutes in, he tripped over his own feet or something. Fell down and started seizing."

Scott couldn't find it in himself to be mad at her. Virgil hadn't had a seizure in nearly three years. He'd gotten knocked over the head more than once in those years and nothing had gone wrong. He looked down at his brother who was still seizing. Ever since Virgil had been diagnosed, Scott had done extensive research on epilepsy. He'd watched countless videos of what a seizure looked like. Except this time, it wasn't a video, and it wasn't a random stranger. It was his little brother, and it was real. It was happening right in front of him. He'd seen one before, but it didn't change the fact that he felt sick. This time John wasn't there to help him. His other brother that day of all days to go to the dentist.

Virgil stilled soon after Scott had arrived and Coach Marshall called out, "Four minutes and forty-eight seconds."

Just barely under five minutes, the time stamp when you're supposed to start worrying. When the risk of permanent damage increases dramatically. Scott vaguely wondered how they had called his class so quickly, but figured Coach Marshall knew Virgil was his brother and that Scott wouldn't be able to focus the rest of the day if he had been called afterward and hadn't seen for himself what happened. He was right.

Unlike past seizures, Virgil wasn't unconscious after it was done. He sat up with a little help from Scott and seemed a little confused, but pretty alert, "Scott? What're you doing here?"

"You had a seizure, Virg," Scott said gently. "Did you take your meds this morning?"

Virgil looked like he was thinking hard before his eyes widened and he cursed under his breath, "Sorry, Scott, I completely forgot. My alarm didn't go off and I was afraid you'd leave without me."

Scott pursed his lips, "I'd never leave without you. And now that you've gone and done this, you'd better believe I'm going to be hovering over you even more."

His brother groaned, "Come on, it was one time!"

"Yeah, and one time is all it takes for something really bad to happen, Virg. You're supposed to be the one who knows medical stuff, you should know better than to skip a dose," Scott couldn't blame the P.E. coach, it wasn't her fault. But he could blame his idiot brother who somehow forgot he has a chronic illness that requires daily medication.

Virgil was looking down at his hands, "Come on, Scott, you know I'm going to get a lecture from Mom and Dad. Cut me a little slack?"

Scott sighed, "Yeah, I do know. I'd love to give you a lecture of my own right here, right now. The only thing that's saving you is that I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends."

His brother's gaze immediately shifted to the bleachers where most of the other kids were talking or playing on their phones. But Scott recognized three of Virgil's friends looking on worriedly, talking very animatedly about something.

"You haven't told them, have you?" Scott guessed from the look on Virgil's face.

Virgil shook his head, "I thought it was under control and they'd never see one. I mean, it's been three years, Scott, I didn't think I had to worry about it that much."

Scott moved to put an arm around his brother's shoulders, "I'm not trying to downplay how hard this is for you, Virg, but you've never seen one. I know you've seen videos of other people having them, but it's not the same as seeing it in real life to someone you love. You don't know how scary it is for everyone around you. It's not something you can shove to the back of your mind and forget about. If you don't take care of yourself, it's not going to end well. I don't want you to be scared of everything, but I need you to worry about it. At least a little."

Virgil just nodded as the nurse came up to them and told them their dad was there to pick Virgil up and take him to the doctor, just to be safe. Scott walked his brother to the front office where their dad was waiting. Scott went back to class, but he had a hard time focusing the rest of the day, despite how hard Coach Marshal had tried to prevent it.

Just as they'd both suspected, their parents gave Virgil a long lecture and made him take his medication in front of one of them for the next few months. His brother didn't complain though. And Scott knew it was because he realized they were only doing it because he had scared them half to death and taking his meds in front of them made them happy.

Scott did have to punch a stupid sophomore in the face after he made fun of Virgil by shaking in his chair, laughing, while his brother just stared at his lap, face red. Scott had only found out about it when Virgil's friends, Hayden and Bryce told him and asked him to help them get back at the guy. Scott had happily obliged and didn't even fight the one-day suspension it cost him. Mostly because the bully had gotten three days of suspension and he didn't get to go on some field trip to somewhere Scott didn't remember. Of course, his parents had grounded him, but they didn't seem that angry when they found out why he did it. (His dad had even patted him on the back and whispered "good job" before getting promptly smacked upside the head by his mom.)


	5. Chapter 5

The next one was the worst out of them all. It was technically three seizures, but Scott counted it as one in his mind. It happened about a month after their mom died. They had all been grieving in their own way; John would get through two novels a day, Gordon was hardly ever _not _in the pool, Alan spent hours upon hours playing the same level of the same video game, never able to finish the level before his character died, and Scott was either working to keep everyone alive or in the home gym they had set up in the basement. Their dad had pretty much locked himself away in his room, which may have been a contributing factor. to how all of their "coping mechanisms" had gotten so bad. Virgil had somehow managed to go three days eating nothing besides half an apple and a granola bar without any of them noticing. They were all too busy trying not to fall apart.

In a weird way, Virgil's seizure had been a bit of a good thing. It shocked them all back into being a family again. That didn't mean Scott wasn't haunted by the memories even ten years later. He'd have preferred it much more had been John catching a cold from staying out on the roof for too long, Gordon getting into another fight at school, or maybe even Alan running away again that brought their dad back. But it wasn't. Scott never really forgave himself for not noticing sooner how hard that long month had been on his brother.

Scott was heading back to the Air Force soon. The leave he had gotten was almost up, and he had managed to pull himself together enough to stay in shape enough to put up with what he was about to go back to. He just wished he'd noticed just how much his then eighteen-year-old brother was hurting.

It was one of the few times all five brothers had been together in the month following their mother's death. Usually, at least one of them was holed up in their room, hit by a fresh wave of grief. But they were all slowly starting to move on. The same couldn't be said for their dad, but the five brothers together would have to do for that night. It had been nice, at first, and Scott had almost started to forget why neither of their parents were sitting with them.

Virgil had been playing the piano for one of the first times in a while. He was playing some pop song because their mother had always said her favorite songs were the classics. While he could manage doing one of her favorite activities, he couldn't quite bring himself to play one of "her" songs.

Scott should have noticed sooner that something was wrong. First, Virgil missed several notes in a row, but didn't stop, backtrack a few measures, and then continue, like usual. He just plowed through the song, but the beat was off and his hands didn't seem to be playing the same part. Then the familiar tune turned into something Scott didn't recognize and, by the time any of them realized what was going on, Virgil had slowed down to playing a couple of notes a second.

"Uh, Virg?" Gordon had called from where he and Alan were playing Scrabble. "I don't think that's how it goes."

Gordon's lame attempt at a joke was quickly forgotten as Virgil tried to stand, but more slumped off the bench onto the floor as he started seizing. Unlike the last few times, Scott was able to immediately jump into action. He yelled a little unnecessarily loud at Gordon to start a timer and rushed to Virgil's side. He pushed the bench out of the way and moved Virgil as best he could away from the piano so he would stop hitting his feet against the pedals.

He grabbed a throw pillow off the couch and tucked it under his brother's head. The floor was carpeted, but it wasn't a very good cushion for someone who was uncontrollably banging their head on the floor. Alan asked if he should get Dad, but Scott shook his head. If it got bad, they'd tell him, but no need to burden him with this until they knew how bad it was.

Virgil stopped after two minutes and eighteen seconds. It didn't seem too bad to Scott. He hadn't regained consciousness, yet, but that didn't mean anything, yet. John entered the seizure into the digital log that was connected to all of their phones. Number five. Scott should have realized it would happen soon. Stress was a big trigger for epileptic seizures, and goodness knows they'd all had their fair share of that lately.

He had turned to Alan to have him fetch Virgil a bottle of water when it started again. That time Scott didn't act quite as quick. He knew that back-to-back seizures were possible, but that didn't make him any less startled. It was then that he knew it wasn't going to be one Virgil could come back from easily like his first and fourth one. Having multiple seizures without a full recovery between them was considered an emergency.

"Okay, Alan, go get dad. John, call 9-1-1," Scott said shakily, trying to get himself under control. With Dad trapped in his own little bubble of grief, it had left Scott mostly in charge for the past month. Virgil had helped him out a lot, but that wasn't really an option at the moment, "Gordon, keep timing it."

Alan seemed frozen in place, staring at Virgil. It had been the first one Alan had seen that he was old enough to really understand. It just had to be the worst of them all.

"Alan!" Scott didn't want to yell at his little brother, but he needed his father.

Luckily, it seemed to do the trick as Alan darted out of the room and John talked to the 9-1-1 operator, calmer than Scott thought was humanly possible in the given situation. Alan returned with their father in tow. The man seemed out of it, still, but it would have to do.

"How long?" he asked.

Scott pursed his lips, "The first one was just over two minutes."

"The first one?" That perked him up. Immediately, his father was beside him, seemingly snapped out of whatever funk he'd been in previously. "How much time between them?"

"About twenty seconds," Scott estimated, looking to Gordon for confirmation. "He didn't recover at all in between. Completely unconscious, then the next one started."

His dad took one of Virgil's hands in his own and closed his eyes. Scott had no clue what his dad was doing, but it seemed to help. Once his eyes opened again, he saw the hard, determined look he was used to seeing in his father and he knew he had his dad back, if only for a few minutes.

"They can get an ambulance here in two minutes," John said, phone still pressed against his ear. "Four. . . Yes, he is. . . About two years ago, I think. Yeah, he was sixteen then."

Scott left John to the phone. He had always been the best at phone calls, despite being a textbook introvert. His dad was telling Alan to get Virgil's medicine bottle from his room because the doctors would want to know what medication he was on and none of them knew how to pronounce it and definitely didn't know how much he took at a time. Their mom had always handled Virgil's medicine.

The second seizure lasted three minutes and fifty-two seconds. Virgil was breathing heavily after it was done and sweat covered his brow. His dad brushed his brother's wet bangs out of his eyes and whispered so softly Scott could barely hear it.

"I'm sorry, son."

The paramedics had come in merely seconds later and Scott was pushed away as they did their job. It didn't take nearly as long as the first time Scott remembered them coming to his home. They quickly loaded Virgil onto the stretcher and strapped him in. As they were preparing to leave, his dad turned to John, "You're in charge, okay. I'll call you when we know something."

Scott gave his dad a questioning look but realized quickly that his dad wanted him to go with him. It was the first seizure his dad had to deal with without Mom. The first one he had to deal with alone. He didn't want to make his dad explain that in front of his younger brothers, so he just followed the paramedics out to the ambulance.

The two climbed in and the doors were shut closed behind them. His dad turned to him as the paramedics continued their exam as the vehicle drove along, "I'm sorry, Scott. I'm so sorry."

"For what?" he was genuinely confused.

"I'm sorry for leaving you and Virgil to take care of the others. I should have been there for you all. What kind of father puts the stress of raising three boys on his epileptic son?" His dad was staring at Virgil's face, his hands gripping the edge of the hard bench they were sitting on so hard his knuckles turned white.

Scott put a hand on his father's shoulder, "Dad, it's okay. I loved Mom; we all did. But it was different for you. And I don't blame you for needing a little more time to get it together. None of us do."

His dad shook his head, "No, that doesn't matter. I should have done better. I should have seen what I was doing to you boys. I should have-"

But he was cut off and Scott swore his heart stopped when Virgil started seizing again. The paramedics' demeanor immediately changed and they began moving much quicker and calling out medical mumbo jumbo that Scott didn't understand at each other. His dad wrapped his arms around Scott and pulled him tightly into his side. He didn't care that his dad had done it more to give himself comfort than to comfort Scott. All he cared about was the fact that his dad was holding him and he didn't have to be the strong one anymore.

The third seizure lasted for two minutes and thirty-two seconds. Scott watched with tears pooling in his eyes as they put an oxygen mask over his brother's mouth and nose saying something about his levels getting too low. They rechecked all his vitals and gave him an injection of something. Scott didn't breathe anywhere close to normally until they got to the hospital and a small group of ER nurses took Virgil into an exam room, followed closely by a doctor.

He and his dad were forced to sit in that horrible waiting room for two hours. His dad called John to let him know they were at the hospital and just waiting to hear something. Anything. No matter what Scott said, his dad just kept apologizing for leaving them.

It had felt like an eternity until a doctor came out and called for them. Scott was both glad they finally knew something, but nervous because they were about to find out just how bad it was. The doctor walked them to Virgil's room and told them what he knew.

"We did several scans, and they're all clear," He started.

Scott felt an immense weight lift from his chest, "So there wasn't any brain damage?"

"Thankfully, no. You dodged a bullet; I was very worried for some time, but we've found nothing to suggest Virgil won't make a full recovery within a few days."

"Do you know what triggered the seizure?" His dad asked, biting at his lip.

"From what I can tell, he hasn't been eating much," the doctor answered, his reassuring smile turning into a worried frown. "That, or he hasn't been following his diet very well. It also appears that he's missed a dose or two of his medicine. There isn't as much in his system as there should be."

Scott heard his dad let out a shaky breath. He knew he was probably blaming himself. Scott was too; he should have noticed Virgil wasn't eating well. Granted, none of them were, but that wasn't an excuse. He was supposed to look out for his brothers. That was the whole reason he had taken time off from the air force in the first place. To take care of his family. Apparently, he couldn't even do that right.

"But I assure you," The grin was back as the doctor saw the looks on their faces. "With plenty of rest and a few good meals in him, Virgil will be just fine. I'd like to keep him overnight just to be safe, but that's more me being overcautious than anything."

"Is he awake?" his dad asked.

The doctor gave them a small nod, "Yes, he came 'round as we were getting him settled in his room. He seems to be pretty alert, just understandably tired. He knows he had three serial seizures, but I think I'll leave it to you to tell him what triggered them. His O2 stats were a bit low when he came in, so we've got him on some oxygen just to help boost them a little. His breathing isn't near as bad now as it was, though, so he should be off it in a couple hours."

Scott nodded. He hadn't quite yet decided if he wanted to get mad at his brother or smother him with concern. Perhaps both at the same time. He'd done it before when Gordon had tried to see how long he could hold his breath and passed out in the pool. That was a scary day.

They arrived at Virgil's room and the doctor knocked before pushing it open and allowing them to brush by him. Scott had long since learned that a doctor knocking was less of them asking to be let in and more just giving those inside a warning that someone was coming in. The door closed behind them, leaving the three of them alone

His brother was looking out the window at the sunset when they came in but tore his gaze away from the swirl of color to give Scott and his dad a tired smile, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Scott couldn't help but smile as he took the seat beside the bed. "How're you feeling, Virg?"

Virgil shrugged and Scott took in his appearance, knowing his little brother had a tendency to downplay any pain he was in. As the doctor had said, there was a nasal cannula under his brother's nose and tucked behind his ears. An IV was in his left wrist, and some kind of device was clipped onto his finger, most likely monitoring his oxygen levels from what Scott could tell. His skin was a little pale, but nothing too startling. He looked tired more than anything, but Scott could understand that. Even though he'd only had four before, he knew Virgil just liked to sleep after a seizure, but he hadn't had the opportunity to do so yet.

"Just tired. I've got a bit of a headache, but that's all."

His dad took a seat on the other side of the bed, "The doctor thinks he knows what triggered it this time. What's this about you not eating?"

Shrugging appeared to be his brother's new favorite action because he did it again before answering, "I haven't been hungry. Don't give me that look, Scott, I know it was dumb, but can we skip the lecture if I just promise not to do it again?"

Scott pretended to contemplate his brother's proposition carefully before answering, "If you add on not complaining when we start making you eat in front of someone, you've got a deal."

Virgil smiled and laughed a little, "Deal. Just as long as you don't sic Alan on me. You're turning him into a mini you and I don't like it."

He mirrored his brother's smile and they shook on it best they could at the awkward angle which got another chuckle out of Virgil. Their dad put a hand on Virgil's shoulder, making him shift his gaze. The man looked close to tears and Scott worried what he would say.

"Son, I just want to apologize, no let me finish," His father said, cutting Virgil off when he opened his mouth to protest. "I'm sorry for leaving you and Scott to look after the others this past month. I know the stress of that was part of what caused this. But I promise, I won't leave you again. When Scott goes back to the Air Force, you won't have to be the head of the house. I'm supposed to take care of you, not the other way around. I may need your help some days, but I've had enough time to grieve. It's time for me to come back to you boys."

"Dad. . ." Virgil's eyes were glistening with tears as well and, before Scott could register it, his brother and his father were in each other's arms, both crying freely. Scott was startled as he realized that was the first time he'd seen his brother cry since their mother died. He hadn't cried when he'd first been told, when they had to tell Grandma, at the funeral, or any time since then. Scott mentally kicked himself for not realizing it sooner. Once he left, that would leave Virgil as the oldest brother and, since their dad hadn't shown any sign of being a father any time soon, responsible for the others. He understood that Virgil's frown whenever someone mentioned Scott would be leaving soon was less because he was going to miss him, and more because Scott leaving meant Virgil was on his own.

Sure, John could help wrangle Gordon and Alan, but his middle brother was basically incompetent in the kitchen, he was only sixteen, which meant his driver's license was pretty limiting, and, though John was undeniably the smartest out of all five of them, he was horrible at helping the younger two with their homework. Someone always got frustrated and it typically ended with at least two broken pencils and slammed doors. Virgil's patience was more helpful than any amount of knowledge. Grandma came and helped out sometimes, but she usually just made dinner, tucked Alan and Gordon in, and spent the rest of her visits with their dad. Scott had been ready to leave his little brother to raise their three other brothers _alone_. How had he not seen it?

"I miss her," Virgil's voice pulled Scott out of his thoughts. His father and brother had separated, but his father kept one hand on the back of Virgil's neck, his fingers tangled in his brother's hair.

The nasal cannula had become crooked while they were embracing and his father straightened it carefully as he spoke, "I know, son. It's going to hurt for a while longer since you've been holding it in for so long, but it will get better. I promise. We're going to get through this together. As a family."

Virgil smiled his first genuine smile of the night as he whispered, almost to himself, "Thank you."

His dad stared into Virgil's eyes. Out of the five of them, Virgil had been the only one to inherit their mother's warm, chocolate brown gaze. His brother had been told more times than any of them could count that he looked just like her. Their eyes and hair were the same, but it was more their smiles than anything. The way it seemed to portray every emotion known to man but hold a little mystery at the same time. The way it could light up any room, no matter how dreary it had been beforehand. The way you could remember every detail about it, no matter how long it had been since you'd seen it.

"I love you, son. I know I don't say it enough, but don't you ever forget that."

"Love you too, dad," Virgil yawned and blinked tiredly.

His dad kissed the top of Virgil's head, like he used to do when they were little, "Go to sleep, son. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Virgil leaned back against the bed and mumbled something Scott couldn't decipher as he closed his eyes. His dad kept Virgil's hand in his grip, rubbing his thumb over the back of his brother's hand. He looked to Scott this time, "Scott-"

He cut him off, "Dad, all I care about is that you're not going to leave them again. Promise me you won't leave them."

"I promise," Scott could tell he was being sincere. "Scott, I promise I'm never going to leave any of you ever again."

Scott stood, "Good. I'm going to call John. Be back in a few."

As he left, he heard his dad whispering his promise to Virgil.

"I'll never leave you again."

**Hi, yes, I'm aware that in TAG, Gordon also has brown eyes, but they're noticeably lighter than Virgil's and have a reddish tint to them in certain light. Almost like rust or copper. Virgil's are always dark brown, so don't come for me saying Virgil and Gordon both have their mother's eyes or that Lucielle Tracy didn't have black hair and brown eyes because this is purely based on TAG and we haven't seen a picture of her on that show, yet. (I don't actually know if they've shown a picture of her on the original or if the 2004 movie is cannon. Don't come for me about that, either. Just enjoy the new chapter, please. And write a review! I like hearing what you guys think.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeah... I know. It's been a long time. I had a bit of writer's block on this chapter and couldn't get it right. You're going to read the fourth version of this chapter and I'm still not very happy with it, but I wanted to get you guys something. We've got one more chapter to go after this and I actually have an idea of where that one's going. Once again, I'm not a doctor and I'm just hoping that anything that's incorrect can be blamed on future medication. If not, let me know and I'll see if I can fix it. Hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry, once again, for the delay.**

When their dad first pitched the idea of a rescue organization, there had, of course, been a long discussion about what Virgil's role would be. Although, discussion was probably a kind word for the loud yelling match between his brother and father. Virgil and their dad didn't fight often, but it never tended to end well for anyone in the household. Their dad was worried that the physically demanding and mentally stressful job would be bad for Virgil's health, instead suggesting he be the field medic. Virgil understood their dad's concerns but was angry that he wasn't even going to be given a chance. Especially since he hadn't had a seizure in two years. In the end, Scott had forced them into two different rooms to cool down for a few minutes before having an actual conversation about the matter. After the discussion, the two decided Virgil would start out as a pilot and see what happened.

What happened was Virgil started out flying the large green aircraft their father had designed to and from rescues. However, during a particularly bad fire, they needed more than just Scott and Gordon, giving their father no other choice than to let Virgil help out. Over time, he became a bigger part of the organization until Scott couldn't imagine going out on a rescue without Virgil's help.

Of course, that didn't mean everyone wasn't watching him like a hawk. Not so much on the daily besides checking his log every now and then to make sure he was taking his medication. More after the particularly hard rescues-both physically and emotionally. The first time they lost a victim, Scott and his father had monitored Virgil so closely he was sure his brother was going to go crazy. The time Virgil took a knock to the head and was unconscious for three minutes, he was pretty sure his brother was never in a room without at least two other people for a week. Once he had recovered a bit after being shot down by the Sentinel, he had probably actually gone crazy for a week or two. Then there was the day their father supposedly died.

Scott couldn't help but wonder if their family was cursed. All they had ever tried to do was help people, and the one time their father decides to go back to his roots and help out the GDF he just has to leave them. Scott knew the circumstances were far different at the time, but he couldn't help but think back to that night in the hospital nearly seven years prior. His father promised he wouldn't leave his younger brothers again. He knew it was ridiculous to be thinking about that, especially since all his brothers were perfectly capable and didn't need a guardian anymore. They just needed their father.

Alan and Gordon were pretty much in denial, saying they wouldn't believe it until they saw a body. As if the video of the literal fireball, which their father had been in the middle of, wasn't proof enough. John had thrown himself back into his work. Not just International Rescue, but he was back to the experiments and studies that he had been doing before International rescue got started. Scott knew for a fact that his brother was barely eating or sleeping, but there wasn't much anyone could do about it other than call him often and remind him to take breaks.

Scott had thought he'd have to be micromanaging Virgil as he had after his last seizure, but it seemed like Virgil had a new coping mechanism this time around. He was becoming borderline OCD with his condition, taking his medication at precisely 7:00 am and 7:00 pm instead of generally in the morning and evening like he had been doing for as long as Scott could remember. He was keeping a diet journal as suggested for those with more severe epilepsy. He had cut out all sugar and most carbs, taking on a diet that was basically keto. Scott wasn't sure if his brother's obsessive behavior was something to be worried or relieved about. On the one hand, Scott didn't have to worry about Virgil like the others, but sometimes, his brother's new habits were downright crazy.

He'd walked in on Virgil using Brains' scale to measure out how much butter he was putting in a pan to cook eggs. He was fairly certain Virgil had two alarms set: one at seven o'clock, and one at six fifty-five. The first one would go off so Virgil could get up to his room in time to take his medication at exactly seven. Scott was getting slightly worried Virgil would become obsessive about other parts of his life. Given that they lived on an island in the middle of literal nowhere and their job meant they could be going off to anywhere in the world at any moment to be doing basically anything, it would not be ideal if his usually easy-going brother took on a stricter routine.

They were still going on rescues, of course. There had been no question about that. It had taken some getting used to without their father calmly in their ears giving them direction, but they had fallen into a routine. Scott and John had split up their father's roles without even thinking about it and the other three had gotten twice as good at guessing where they would be needed without having to ask. They had yet for anything to go terribly wrong in the four months since their father's death. Sure, they had lost a few victims, which was always hard, but nothing to make Scott question if they were still doing the right thing. Of course, the universe could never go easy on them for too long, could it?

It was a pretty routine rescue, an earthquake on the coast of India had caused some damage to a poor fishing village. The nearest first-responders were several hours away on the other side of a mountain. International Rescue could get there in a fourth of the time. They would be doing minor repairs to the dam and helping evacuate the villagers to a nearby city where several shelters were being set up. There weren't that many people in the village, so Virgil would be able to get them all in two trips, maybe three. Scott had gone ahead in Thunderbird One just to assess and start organizing the evacuation with some of the leaders in the village. They got all the children, elderly, and sick adults in one group and the healthy adults in another. Scott told them they could bring a few changes of clothes, a little food, and money, but to pack light because they would be coming back once it was safe. Most were able to fit all of their clothes and money in a couple of small bags that they distributed amongst their family members, meaning maybe half of the villagers had a small rucksack on their backs. By the time Virgil arrived with Gordon and Alan, the first group was ready to board Thunderbird Two and they took off for the city. Alan was in the passenger bay with the villagers, just to make sure nothing happened.

Scott left Gordon and some of the men and women in the village to fix the dam and took to looking around to see if anything else needed attention. Despite the people in the village being less fortunate than most, Scott could see evidence of charity organizations who had helped out. Their houses were small but stable. He didn't think any of them had any risk of collapsing. The church and the small hospital also looked good, although the steeple may fall if there were any kind of aftershock. Circling back around to the dam, he called out to Gordon.

"Everything looks good! We'll be good to go once this dam is patched and the others finish the evacuation."

Gordon gave him a thumbs up whilst continuing to spray the sealant on the concrete dam. Scott began helping the small group and they were finishing just as Thunderbird Two's engines became audible. The two brothers sent the villagers to head to the evacuation point while they finished the dam. They had sprayed the last bit of sealant just as the ground started rumbling.

"Aftershock!" Scott yelled out as he and Gordon did their best to brace themselves on the dam. Luckily, it seemed Brains' inventions had come through once again as the dam held strong. The quake was over almost as quick as it started. Looking around, Scott saw that a few buildings had collapsed, but it appeared to be just some barns and stables. All of the houses were still standing, and the steeple on the church had actually stayed up.

"Scott!" Alan's voice came over the comms. "Are you guys okay?"

He and Gordon began making their way off the dam and back towards where the Thunderbirds were parked, "We're good, Al. How're the victims?"

"Alright, they were all in Thunderbird Two when it hit. We're just waiting on Virgil."

Scott physically stopped in his tracks out of surprise, "Where's Virgil?"

"He said he had something to take care of and told me to just get everyone on board," Alan said.

Scott opened the main communications line, "Virgil, report."

There was a deafening silence as they all waited for their brother's voice to come over the comms. Maybe telling them he was looking for anyone hurt in the initial quake. But there was nothing.

"Virgil, can you hear me? Report now," Scott said, urgently. There was still nothing. "John-"

"Already on it," John cut him off. "He's in the village. Looks like a stable or a barn."

Scott was already moving, "Send me the cords."

A small blip on his watch and Scott was making his way towards his brother's location. He had to watch his step due to the rough, uneven ground covered in ruined foliage and debris. Once he reached the stable where his brother's tracker was coming from, though, he started running. The stable had become a giant heap of broken wood and stone.

"Virgil! Virg, can you hear me?" Scott called out as he began looking through the wreckage. He barely registered Gordon appearing out of nowhere and helping. They had been digging for what felt like an eternity to Scott when Gordon called out, "Here!"

He hurried over to where his brother was and caught a glimpse of the bright green and blue of Virgil's uniform. The two made quick work of digging their brother out. Once they had freed up his arm, Scott instantly put two fingers to his brother's wrist and sighed with visible relief at the steady pulse he felt. At Gordon's questioning glance he voiced his relief for him, "Strong and steady."

"As always," Gordon almost laughed as he went back to his task.

They got his upper body out quickly enough. It was mostly just splintered support beams that covered him that could be picked up and tossed to the side. As they were moving to the debris covering his brother's abdomen and legs, they both froze as a soft groan came over the still-open comms.

Scott went to his brother's head and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Virg? Virgil, can you hear me?"

His brother's eye's fluttered open and took a few moments to focus on Scott's face, "Scott?"

"Hey," He said gently. "You're gonna be okay, alright? We're gonna get you out."

"What's happening?" Virgil tried to sit up but Scott held him down.

A glance at Gordon showed he was working even faster to free their brother. Scott couldn't help but flinch as something shifted and Virgil cried out in pain. He squeezed his brother's shoulder, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. What hurts?"

Virgil gritted his teeth together as he answered, "There's something on my legs. Might be broken, I don't know."

As Gordon continued, going more carefully this time, Scott called for Alan to bring a stretcher and a med bag to them. By the time Scott had calmed their youngest brother down from his momentary panic, Gordon had gotten everything off of Virgil besides the large wooden beam across his legs. Gordon was talking to Virgil calmly and gave his shoulder a squeeze as the two got in position to move the beam. Scott counted down from three and lifted as quickly as they could. Luckily (or unluckily, he hadn't decided), Virgil managed to stay conscious, though Scott was surprised he hadn't chipped a tooth from how hard he was biting down.

Looking at his brother's legs, Scott could already see some swelling and knew that there were likely a few fractures, at the very least. Gordon was doing his best to keep Virgil calm, letting him grip his hand so tight both of their knuckles turned white and talking in soft, reassuring tones.

_I'm sorry, Dad._ Scott thought to himself as Alan came running up and the two got to work splinting Virgil's legs. _I couldn't protect them. I failed you._

"-out of it! Scott!" He suddenly became aware that John was yelling at him over the comms.

"Sorry, John. What was that?" He asked. Scott felt all the control he had built up over the past months, over both his emotions and the dangerous situations he sent his brothers into daily, beginning to slip away like smoke. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as Virgil cried out again and Alan started apologizing profusely.

"I _said_: Snap out of whatever's going through your head and help our brothers! You can blame yourself and feel bad all you want later, but you have to get Virgil somewhere stable in case there's another aftershock."

Trust John's calm, yet urgent tone to get him back on track. Scott squared his shoulders and dug through the med bag until he found the extra-strength painkillers and a small bottle of water. It would make the pain a little more bearable so his brother would be able to stay conscious. As much as it pained Scott to see his brothers hurting, Virgil needed to stay awake. Falling asleep for a long period of time with a concussion could cause him to slip into a coma, which was the last thing anyone needed.

Virgil gulped the water down gratefully and Scott wondered if he even realized he'd been given medicine. He helped his brothers finish splinting Virgil's legs as best they could and they tied them together to give him a bit more stability.

Then it was time for the hard part: transferring Virgil to the hover stretcher. Alan dug out a roll of bandages for Virgil to bite down on this time and they all got into position. Gordon was going to lift Virgil's shoulders and torso, Scott was getting his legs, and Alan would be pushing the stretcher under him. Scott knew this was going to hurt, but John was right, there could be another aftershock at any moment and they had to at least get Virgil off the pile of rubble.

So, he counted down from three, once again, and tried not to let his brothers see how much he wanted to break down at Virgil's muffled scream. He tried to moved his brother as little as possible for Alan to slide the stretched under him, but he knew the pain must have been near unbearable. Scott's heart was breaking as he took Virgil's hand and hoped he sounded reassuring.

Virgil's breaths were coming out in gasps and Scott could see he was trying to hold back tears. They began pushing the hover stretcher back to the Thunderbirds and Scott sent Alan ahead to make sure everyone was ready to go. They would have to drop off the victims first, and Scott wanted to make sure they wouldn't be wasting any more time.

As they got back to the landing site, Scott was momentarily startled at Thunderbird One's absence but quickly realized what had happened, "John?"

"Sent her back to Tracy Island. Figured you'd want to stay with the others," John said nonchalantly.

Scott smiled at how well his brother knew him and at Brain's new feature that allowed the Thunderbirds to fly back to Tracy Island from anywhere on Earth and land themselves. It was the first time they had used the feature in the field, but Scott wasn't near as worried about his craft as he had been during testing. He had other things to worry about.

They got Virgil into the med bay and Gordon hurried off to take off. Though not before Virgil managed to groan out, "You scratch her and I'll kill you."

Gordon laughed a little and put a hand on Virgil's shoulder once more, "I'd love to see you try. Maybe you can run over my toes with a wheelchair."

Scott watched his little brother fondly as he jogged off towards the cockpit, followed by Alan. Turning back to his other brother who had his eyes closed, but was obviously still awake, he set to work trying to make sure he wasn't in too much pain. He set up an IV and gave him a bit more pain medication. Thunderbird Two had better medical supplies than a small emergency room, so Scott redid the splints on Virgil's legs and did a quick x-ray. It wasn't the best picture in the world, but his right leg was clearly broken. His left may just be fractured, but Scott couldn't be 100% sure until they were able to do a proper exam. He didn't find anything they couldn't take care of on the island, though, so he told Brains to have the infirmary ready for their return.

Thunderbird Two touched down in the city, quickly letting off their passengers before taking to the skies once more. Scott was never one to sit around waiting, so he got to work cleaning and bandaging the small cuts and scrapes that littered Virgil's body. The pain meds had finally kicked in so Virgil just quietly watched him work. Scott found himself slightly grateful it hadn't been Gordon or Alan. He knew from experience that his youngest brothers on this specific medication were not something he wanted to deal with again. Ever, if he could help it.

A few times, Scott noticed Virgil's eyes starting to droop and had to remind him he couldn't fall asleep yet, "Come on, Virg. You know you can't go to sleep with a concussion."

Virgil groaned and brought his arm up to cover his eyes, "This sucks. I'm going to be out of commission for months."

"Hey, stop that," Scott stopped his busy work and sat down. "You're alive and relatively okay. Let's focus on that for now. No need to be restless."

"You know if it had been you, I would've had to sedate and/or restrain you to keep you still, right?" Virgil lifted his arm slightly to give him an incredulous look.

Scott snorted, though he would deny ever doing so if Virgil brought it up later, "Well, then let's just thank our lucky stars it wasn't me."

"Yeah, you're tell…" Virgil's sentence drifted off and his eyes started to droop again.

Scott sighed and tapped his face, "Come on, we're almost home. Just stay awake a little longer."

"I don't feel right," Virgil said, his words slurring together. "Sco…"

He was wondering if he had given his brother too high a dose of pain medication when he started seizing. It had been seven years since the last one. It took him a few moments to remember what he had to do. He quickly set a timer and called for Alan over the comms.

"Scott, what's wrong?" John asked. He momentarily cursed himself for not realizing he had used the open channel.

"Virgil's having a seizure," He said, ignoring the surprised and worried outbursts from his brothers. He started double-checking the straps holding his brother in place and grabbed another to keep his legs more stable. "Gordon, can you go any faster?"

"I was already pushing it, but I can try," The side of Gordon that had been in the military was coming out and Scott was glad for it.

The door to the infirmary burst open and Alan rushed over, "What do you need me to do?"

"We've got to keep his legs stable," Scott said, tightening the straps as much as he dared. "These braces aren't going to do much good right now. See if you can find anything."

Alan began rummaging through the various cupboards and Scott made a mental note to have everyone go through some kind of training to know exactly where everything in the med bay was. He tried his best to hold his brother's legs steady on his own, but he couldn't do much without hurting him further. Despite not being able to find something to help, Alan remained admirably calm during the entire seizure. It was over in two minutes and thirteen seconds, though it had felt like a lot longer.

Virgil didn't regain consciousness once it was over, but Scott would have been surprised if he had. Grabbing the x-ray machine again, Scott did another scan and grimaced. The clean break in his right leg had shifted. They'd have to reset it once they got home. His left leg was still pretty unclear, but Scott wouldn't be surprised if they had to reset that one too.

He and Alan took the rest of Virgil's vitals and, after a bit of a debate with all of the brothers that were conscious, decided it was better to be safe than sorry and put an oxygen mask over Virgil's face to help raise his lower-than-normal oxygen levels.

Since there was nothing more they could do until they got back to Tracy Island, Scott and Alan each took one of the hard, metal stools in the med bay. Scott knew he was a better pilot than Gordon, and could probably get them going a little faster, but he couldn't even bring himself to think about leaving. Besides, flying was occupying Gordon's thoughts at the moment.

"What do you think caused it?" Alan asked suddenly. Scott didn't have to ask what he meant.

"Probably the concussion," He guessed. "Maybe the pain or the medication. And we've all been stressed out these past few months."

"But he's only ever had them because he missed a dose. I've looked into it, with Virgil's form of epilepsy, he should never have a seizure as long as he takes his medicine," Alan looked to him. "What's wrong with him?"

Scott didn't have an answer for that. Not a real one anyway. He wished he hadn't given in to Alan and Gordon and let their youngest brother come on the mission. They'd been letting him go on the simpler missions since he was getting on well with his training, and this one had seemed simple enough. But now he wished he'd made his little brother stay home. Said little brother was looking at him expectantly.

"Well, epilepsy's a complex disease, Al. The brain's really complicated. I'm sure we'll figure it out though," He said, giving his brother what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Alan didn't respond and they sat in tense silence for the rest of the journey, which was only ten minutes. Once they landed (a bit rough, if he was being honest), they were quickly joined by Gordon who helped them maneuver Virgil into the infirmary. Brains was waiting for them and Scott was glad to let him take over.

More than anything, Scott felt lost. He had been working on adrenaline for the past hour and, now that there was nothing for him to do, he wanted to just crash. But he couldn't. Not because he wanted to make sure Virgil was okay. He trusted Brains and knew he'd take care of his brother. The thoughts that he had forced to the back of his mind when his brothers needed him were all flooding back. With a quick glance to make sure everyone's attention was on Brains and his work, Scott quietly slipped out of the room and started making his way to the lounge for a lie-down. Or maybe the kitchen for some coffee. Or maybe something a bit stronger. He hadn't quite decided.

He ended up in the lounge, but not by the couches or his father's large desk, which he had been spending a lot of time sitting at. He ended up sitting at the beautiful baby grand piano that was his brother's second most treasured possession. Thunderbird Two came first, though the piano was a close second. It had been Virgil's twentieth birthday gift from their father. Scott could still picture the look on his brother's face when he'd seen it for the first time. Birthdays had always been tough since their mother's death, but Virgil's twentieth had been the first where Scott hadn't felt sad or angry. It had been a good day.

Scott found himself sitting at the bench, his fingers ghosting over the keys. They'd all played piano for a few years when they were younger, but Virgil had been the only one to practice regularly and to stick with it. He plucked out a few notes and smiled, realizing he still remembered how to play the melody of Happy Birthday.

"You know, Virgil's going to kill you if he finds out you were messing with his piano."

Scott spun around quickly and gave Kayo a strained smile, "Hey, Kayo."

She had been working on a case with Lady Penelope when they had gotten the callout several hours prior. Scott guessed someone told her what happened and she decided to come home to check on Virgil and support the rest of the family.

"I expected you to be in the infirmary," she said as she crossed the room and sat beside him. "You know, doing that thing where you hover over Brains' shoulder until we have to physically walk you out of the room."

Scott wanted to share her easy smile; he really did. But he couldn't bring himself to smile after all that had happened that day, "Do you think we're doing the right thing? Keeping International Rescue going without Dad? The world knows who we are now, too. It just feels… wrong. You know?"

Kayo appeared to think hard for a few moments before shrugging simply, "Nope. Not really."

He gave her a look and she dropped the small smile, "Look, Scott. Sure, things are different now, but nothing is wrong. The point of International Rescue was always to save lives, and that's what we're doing. And so what if everyone knows who we are? At least now we can get help from the GDF without worrying about them knowing our identities. Yes, things suck without Jeff, but we're still doing what he set out to do. We're still carrying out his dream."

Scott leaned forward and rested elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as he stared at the floor, "Virgil hasn't had a seizure in seven years. What did we do wrong this time?"

"You mean 'what did _you_ do wrong,' right? Scott, you can't blame yourself for every single bad thing that happens out there. This is a dangerous job; we all knew the risks when we agreed to do this. And I know I wasn't there during the conversation, but I know Virgil didn't need convincing to be a part of this. There is nothing in this world that you could have done."

He shook his head slightly, "No. Kayo, I can't accept that. Because if that's true, then that means that something like this will happen again and I don't think I can handle that. If I can't keep them safe, then why are we even doing this? Why do we risk our lives for other people when all we get back is more loss?"

Kayo stood suddenly and turned to face him, "You aren't seriously asking me that, right?"

Scott looked up at her with what he could assume was a look of complete and utter defeat. Because that's what he felt.

"Scott Carpenter Tracy, don't you ever talk like that again. You know why we do this. You know who this is all for. We do this to save other people from feeling the exact way you have. If we can save one person, we do it. If we can keep one family's lives from falling apart, we do it. We do it because it's worth it to save someone's life. You couldn't save your dad, and you couldn't have stopped what happened to Virgil today, but you can save someone else's life."

"I can't if it means putting my family in danger."

"That's not your decision to make, Scott," Kayo said gently. "They're not the little kids you had to take care of after your mom died. They want to help people. I know Virgil will be itching to get back out there as soon as he can. If you don't support International Rescue anymore, they're just going to do it without you and probably get themselves killed. If keeping them safe is what this is really about, then you can do that better if you're out there with them."

Scott said nothing. They both knew that wasn't the real reason. Before either one of them had the chance to break the silence, Gordon jogged into the room, "There you are, Scott."

"Everything okay?" he asked. He stood quickly and tried to ignore the annoyed sigh from Kayo.

"Yeah, we just noticed you were gone and wanted to make sure you weren't about to do something stupid."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kayo and Gordon gave him identical looks which made him feel as if he were being lectured, "Okay, yeah, don't answer that question. How's Virgil?"

Gordon rolled his eyes at him, but Scott could see the concern he had for their brother, "Brains put those metal leg braces on until he can get the swelling down enough to do casts. I think they're going to do some scans of his brain, but he doesn't think they'll find anything bad. He's still out, though."

Scott nodded but said nothing, his mind racing. He muttered something about going down to see if he could help with anything, though he doubted Brains would allow him to do much besides sit quietly to the side and watch. Kayo and Gordon began whispering as soon as he was supposedly out of earshot.

By the time he made it down to the infirmary, he was already waist-deep in the self-loathing he always felt when something went wrong during a rescue. He'd given himself a proper "You're a failure who can't even look after his little brothers" speech and was hardly paying attention as he nearly ran into Brains, who was looking over something on a tablet as he walked by.

Scott assumed it was the results of Virgil's scans and glanced around, quickly spotting his brother on the main bed in the center of the room. Alan was keeping himself busy, getting Virgil settled in for what was bound to be a long stay, which Scott was dreading.

None of the brothers were particularly good patients, but Virgil was the second-worst. (After John who had gotten infuriatingly good at hiding symptoms of any illness or injury he may have whilst up on Thunderbird Five.) Virgil being wheelchair-bound for the next, at the very least, two months was not going to be fun for anyone within a five-mile radius. Not to mention how long it would take for Virgil to get back into well enough shape to go back on a rescue. He could probably fly okay, but it'd take some time to get the strength in his legs up.

Alan looked up as Scott walked over and gave him a small smile, "He's doing okay for now. Should be waking up any minute."

Virgil had been changed into a light gray T-shirt while a thin white blanket had been draped over his legs and up to his waist. Scott slung and arm around Alan's shoulders gave him a light side-hug, "You did good today, Al. I'm proud of you."

His little brother said nothing, but leaned into his side slightly, both of them comforted by the feeling. Brains came over a few moments later to tell them Virgil's scans were all clear, "And I t-think I know w-what caused t-the seizure. You m-must have noticed h-how meticulous V-Virgil has been when t-taking his m-medication, yes?"

"Oh yeah," Alan rolled his eyes. "He's been driving me crazy. He's started using a measuring cup to make sure he takes it with the same amount of water every time."

Scott gently knocked him upside the head with a quick glance at Virgil to make sure he was still asleep, "He's right there, you know."

"W-well," Brains continued, ignoring the brothers' antics. "I believe it's c-caused his body to b-become too used to g-getting a new dose exactly every t-twelve hours. It's n-nearly nine o'clock now, s-so his body is r-responding as if he m-missed a dose entirely. Combined w-with the concussion, p-pain, and stress from the past f-few months, it seems as if it was t-too much."

John had apparently been listening in, "That makes sense, I guess. Dang. And here I was being glad Virg was getting kind of obsessive. I thought it would give us one less thing to worry about."

Scott had been thinking the exact same thing. They never should have let Virgil get this bad. Brains began checking over Alan's work and taking Virgil's vitals again. Scott caught his youngest brother stifling a yawn and sent him to go on to sleep. It had been a long day for him. Alan looked like he wanted to point out that it had been a long day for Scott as well and that he probably needed sleep more than any of them. But a look from both of his older brothers told him that Scott wouldn't be going anywhere until Virgil woke up. So, Alan gave in to his exhaustion and made his way up to his bedroom.

Brains left soon after, claiming he was supposed to look over some designs for Tracy Industries products. It was weird now that they didn't have to hide the fact that they were international rescue from the world. The Hood had done them one favor by boasting to the world that he'd been the one responsible for the great Jeff Tracy's untimely demise and had been all too happy to reveal the man's most well-protected secret. Although, it seemed as if all their fears from the past years had been for naught. Besides the field day every media company on the planet had had with the information, the official statement they released to the public had done it's job.

They confirmed that Jeff Tracy was the founder and head of International Rescue and the main field operatives were his five sons. They also stated that they remained anonymous in order to do their jobs properly. They asked that no questions be asked about International Rescue to the Tracy family and stated that all old rules about photos, videos, and any other forms of media were still in place. A lot of other things had been said in that statement, but it had been written by their father's lawyer so it honestly didn't make much sense to Scott, who had honestly never been one for business or law. The lawyer had also drawn up some new legal documents that gave them the right to sue anyone who went against the statement, but Scott didn't even want to know how he got that thing legalized.

It had worked, though. A few daring reporters had tried to ask questions at their father's funeral but were quickly out a large portion of their life savings, which scared off most of the others. It actually made some things easier. They could handle the legal dealings of International Rescue much easier now and interest in Tracy Industries was at an all-time high. Their stock value had shot up practically overnight and there were countless new clients. Tracy Industries was doing well.

It was International Rescue that had Scott worried for a bit. There had been plenty of ups and downs over the past few months, some close calls, and, sadly, a few lost victims. And, of course, since the world knew who they were, it was a nightmare after every single rescue, dealing with the press wanting a good story. But Scott had been prepared for all of that. They got through it just as they always had and the organization was doing well. It had seemed as if everything would be okay and maybe the family would have the chance to properly grieve once they were sure International Rescue would be fine.

Scott wasn't stupid, he knew injuries were inevitable. They'd had a few incidents since their father's death, but he'd somehow fooled himself into believing nothing serious would happen to his family. Who was he kidding? He couldn't do this. There had never been any chance at them being able to go on without their most important member. Sure, they all had their talents, but Jeff Tracy had been the one to make them a functioning rescue organization. No one else would have even bothered trying this with their crazy family. They needed their father. Scott may have filled that role for a while when their mother first died, but he couldn't do it this time. This wasn't carpooling and homework help, there were lives at stake, his brothers included. But Kayo was right, they couldn't give up. No, Scott couldn't give up because his brothers _wouldn't_ and then it really would be his fault if they got hurt. Or worse.

"Stop it, Scott," he had forgotten about John. "You're doing that thing where you run around in circles trying to blame yourself and you need to stop. There was nothing you could have done and Virgil's going to be okay. Granted, it's going to be a long next few months for all of us, but we'll get through it. We always do."

"I'm not blaming myself, Johnny," he said, hardly noticing that he'd reverted back to his brother's childhood nickname he'd forced everyone to stop calling him when he hit puberty and angsty teenage boy hormones kicked in. Those were not fun years. "Kayo already took that one, try again."

"Okay… Is this about Dad?"

"Ding ding ding, you got it in two," Scott said miserably. "What was I thinking, John, we can't do this without him. Just look at what's happened without him. Alan and Gordon won't even talk about him now, you look like a wreck, Johnny, Virgil's starting to scare me with what he's been doing lately, and I can't just swoop in and take over the "Dad" role this time."

He hadn't meant to dump all of his thoughts onto John, it just happened. Before he knew it, Scott was going over every single insecurity he'd been bottling up since their father's death. John just sat and listened, as always and Scott felt like a complete and utter failure dumping this all on his little brother, but couldn't bring himself to stop. It felt too good to get it all out. Once he was finished, he took a deep breath and waited for John to say something. He suddenly registered that he was pacing around the infirmary and forced himself to stop and sit down on the other bed.

"You're right," John finally said, and Scott looked up in surprise. He'd expected John to launch into a list of reasons they would be okay without their father, but he certainly hadn't thought in a million years that he'd be agreeing with him.

"I-what?"

"You're not Dad. You'll never be able to do what he did, but that's okay. Because that's not what we need from you and it's not what we needed from you then, either. Scott, when Dad shut down all those years ago, we didn't need a new dad, we needed him. What we needed you to do was be our big brother and look after us like one. And you did, you and Virgil both. You guys kept our lives as normal as humanly possible until Dad was ready to come back. We didn't see you like our new parents, you were just our big brothers doing what big brothers do: looking out for us.

"And that's what we need now. You don't have to take over for Dad and you don't have to take all the responsibility for International Rescue. You just do what you've always done and look out for us out there."

"Yeah, look how well I did that job," Scott interrupted, glancing at Virgil's still form on the bed.

"Accidents happen, Scott. We had plenty of them even with Dad around. This isn't near the worst thing that's happened in the field."

"It's the first time Virgil's had a seizure since International Rescue was even thought of," Scott said glumly. "And it happened with me at the wheel."

"Scott, did you tell Virgil to go into that stable?"

"No?"

"Did you cause the aftershock?"

"I don't think-"

"Then what do you think having Dad around would have done?" John asked.

"Virgil wouldn't have been so obsessive with his medicine," he pointed out. "He's doing that because of Dad. I think at first it was to keep the rest of us from worrying about him on top of everything else, but it's turned into something else. I'm really worried about him, John. I know we've told you it's bad, but it's really bad. I honestly think he could be diagnosed with OCD at this point. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but he's worrying about things that people with the most severe forms of epilepsy don't even think about."

John looked concerned, but shrugged, "Then we'll help him. He's going to have a lot of time on his hands now and I'll keep tabs on him, try to break some of those habits."

Scott sighed, feeling no less bad about himself and his incompetence as a brother, but was saved another lecture by a slight moan.

"John, that you?" Virgil shifted a bit in bed and Scott hurried over.

"John's on the monitor, but I'm here," Scott said softly, putting his hand on Virgil's arm. "How're you feeling, Virg?"

Virgil forced his eyes open and took a moment to focus on Scott's face, "Okay, I guess. A little sore maybe. Got a bit of a headache."

His brother's hand wandered to the nasal cannula they'd decided to put on, "What's this for?"

Scott gently pushed his brother's hand back down as he started tugging at the tube, "You had a seizure, Virg. Your oxygen levels were too low, we're just trying to bring them up."

Virgil's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as if he didn't understand, "I did? How?"

"Brains thinks you've been a bit too precise with your medicine lately," John answered, moving himself to a monitor in Virgil's view. "It passed seven o'clock during the rescue."

"Oh," was all Virgil said.

Scott sighed sadly, "Virgil, we're worried about you. The things you've been doing for your epilepsy recently… there a little-"

"Crazy?" his brother supplied.

"No!" John protested. "No, not crazy, just… a bit… much…"

Virgil gave him a tired look, "You think I'm crazy."

Their insistent refusal was ignored, "Yeah, I know I've been acting weird lately. I don't even know why. To begin with, I just didn't want to put everyone through what I did last time. Then it was a distraction from everything else, gave me something else to focus on. But lately, I don't know what it is, but I haven't really felt right recently. I just felt the need to micromanage. I'm sick of it, I just want things to be normal again."

Scott knew from experience that the best thing for Virgil to recover after a seizure was rest, but he wouldn't be getting any of that when he was so worked up. He just needed him to calm down a bit and they could work through all of this once he was feeling better.

"Hey, we'll figure it out, alright?" Scott said gently. "Just get some rest and we'll start working it out tomorrow."

Virgil still looked downright miserable and exhausted, but settled back into the bed and closed his eyes, though Scott could tell he was still awake. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he opened his eyes again and tried to sit up. He didn't have enough energy to resist Scott keeping him still, though and voiced his thoughts.

"I have to take my meds," He said. Scott hated the look of desperation in his brother's eyes. Six months ago, those words would have been said suddenly and out of nowhere as Virgil suddenly realized he hadn't taken his morning dose while they were eating breakfast. He'd get up and disappear for a few minutes before joining them again, getting a few jokes and a playful slap across the head for his forgetfulness.

Now, though, Scott didn't feel like poking fun. His brother looked like he was about to have a panic attack and Scott honestly wouldn't have been surprised by the way he'd been acting. He kept a hand on his brother's shoulder as he turned to John and told him to have Gordon bring Virgil's medicine and a glass of water down.

Turning back to Virgil, Scott sat back in his chair and removed the restrictive hand from his brother's shoulder, "It's okay, Virg. Remember, you've gone, what is it, fourteen years without taking it too precisely and you've done great. I just need you to relax, okay?"

He took his brother's clenched hand in his own and held on until he slowly began to loosen up. Gordon came in with the medicine and the glass of water just as Virgil managed a small smile at his brothers. Gordon expressed his relief that Virgil was awake and handed him the glass of water and shook one of the pills out for him.

Virgil stared at the glass of water for a second before quickly tossing the pill in his mouth and gulping down a mouthful of water just as fast, as if he were trying not to think about it. Scott took the glass away from him and gave him a small pat on the shoulder along with a few words of encouragement. Gordon stayed to talk for a few more minutes before he too started yawning and left for bed. John left soon after to turn in for the night as well. Virgil took a bit longer to settle his nerves but eventually fell into a restless sleep.

Scott hadn't even thought to ask how his legs were feeling, though Brains had him on so many drugs, he was surprised Virgil had stayed awake as long as he did. It suddenly struck him that Virgil couldn't walk, meaning it would be slightly easier to break some of the habits he'd picked up over the past months. He took the pill bottle that had been sat on the table right next to the bed and placed it on the counter across the room. It was clearly in Virgil's line of sight, but he would have to ask someone to give him his pills. They would start gradually weaning him off the strict twelve-hour cycle so his body would be used to the general morning/general nighttime doses again.

Figuring that a good night's sleep would be just what he needed to face the next day, Scott prepared to leave, before hesitating. Virgil shifted in his sleep and he saw his legs moved under the blanket. They would need to put casts on as soon as possible to make sure he healed quickly. Taking a quick peek under the blanket, Scott could see that there was still too much swelling and pursed his lips. Even without the seizure and the habits this would be a hard recovery. Brains had left the x-rays up and Scott could see that he'd been right about the clean break in his right leg that had had to be reset, but his left leg had a spiral fracture and the seizure hadn't done it any favors.

Resolving to worry about one thing at a time, Scott glanced at Virgil one last time before leaving to tell Brains he was turning in for the night. His friend wished him good night and decided to take the plans into the infirmary so he could keep an eye on Virgil, just in case.

Scott wanted more than anything to be the one to stay with his brother through the night, but he knew he'd need his strength for what was to come.

The next two months had not been fun. As usual, Virgil hated being the patient. It wouldn't have been so bad if he could move around more easily, but the wheelchair left him pretty limited on how he could keep himself occupied. He could sort of position himself sideways at the piano and sketch, but he was going stir crazy, especially when there was a rescue and Gordon was the one flying Thunderbird Two. Not to mention their grandmother had insisted on coming to help take care of him when she found out what had happened and was pretty suffocating all on her own. Combined with the rest of his family, Scott was surprised Virgil hadn't carried out his threat of rolling himself off a cliff if they didn't stop hovering. Then there were the habits they'd had to break.

Some were easy, like the measuring. Virgil couldn't maneuver around the kitchen with his casts, and that had been a new one, anyways. He got over it in a few days. Then there was the weird diet. Their grandma had handled that one. She'd leave Virgil stranded somewhere like the kitchen table or the couch in the lounge, ordering everyone else to get out and take his wheelchair with them, and wouldn't help him leave until he ate a decent meal.

"You need carbohydrates, dear, you're going to be all skin and bones if you keep eating like that."

The hardest was getting him to not have a breakdown if he didn't take his medication on time. It'd taken a lot, but they were at the point where he'd take his medicine without any fuss whenever they gave it to him, so long as it wasn't too late in the morning or early in the afternoon. Slowly but surely, they had gotten more and more of their brother back.

One night they were in the lounge watching a movie, though they were talking more than anything. It was a good night. Everyone was happy. Somehow the conversation turned to the rescue that had ended in Virgil's accident, though they were discussing how they hoped the villagers were getting on well. Last they heard there hadn't been too much damage to the village, though several stables and barns had collapsed, making it hard for several families to make a living. They resolved to make donations to a couple of charity organizations and request that they help them out.

"Hey Virg," Alan started tentatively, wondering how to broach the subject. "You never did tell us why you went to that stable in the first place."

Virgil seemed to think about it for a second before turning slightly red, "Okay, I know this is going to sound stupid and you're probably going to laugh at me, but it was for a goat."

Scott wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly at first, "Sorry, what?"

"A goat," Virgil repeated before elaborating. "While we were unloading the first group, these two kids came up and asked me if I would take their goat inside the house to keep her safe. I told them that we can't ensure that we can save pets and that there wasn't any time. But the goat is their entire livelihood. They sell her cheese to other villagers and tourists that stop by during cultural tours. If she died, they wouldn't have stood a chance."

"Hold on. You're telling me that this," Gordon gestured to Virgil's legs that were hidden beneath a blanket. "Is because of a goat?"

"Shut up, Gordon, what was I supposed to do? They were so worried about their family so I promised I'd go and look for her. I managed to get her into the house, but she was freaked out and put up a bit of a fight. Knocked my first aid kit loose so I had to go back into the stable to get it."

"A _goat_?"

"Yes, Gordon! A goat. Will you please give it a rest?"

The grin on Gordon's face showed that there was no way Virgil would ever live the goat thing down. But Scott was just glad to see Virgil acting like his old self, playfully arguing with their brother. The past two months had been hard, and they would only get harder as the casts came off and Virgil would have to get used to the fact that he couldn't go right back into work. It would be another month until he could fully walk without any aid and another one before he was able to run without pain. But they would make it. And Virgil would get back out there. There had never been any question about that.

**Yeah, this is three times longer than anything I've ever posted on this site, but I had a lot to say and I really didn't want to split it into two chapters.**


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